


Wasteland, Baby

by chanhyuk



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: College AU, Fake Dating, M/M, question mark, youtuber au but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanhyuk/pseuds/chanhyuk
Summary: It's like a dam breaking, tension in lieu of water spilling into the air and suffocating Seoho.A shocked, almost muffled "What," falls from his lips intelligently.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Seoho
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Wasteland, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> this is a product of insomnia and stress, so take it however you please. cw for smoking, drinking, painfully ooc characterization, painfully cliche and purely self indulgent, enjoy

It's like a dam breaking, tension in lieu of water spilling into the air and suffocating Seoho. 

A shocked, almost muffled "What," falls from his lips intelligently. 

"Just do me this one favor, just a few weeks in front of the others," Youngjo slowly huffs out, like just saying it was painful, fists almost clenching as his nerves swirled in his stomach. "I need you to act like my boyfriend," A few beats pass. "It’s beneficial for both of us.. kind of. Please?" He eventually continues. 

Youngjo was, well, Youngjo. Simply put, he was someone that would cross unexplored spaces to hand his friends the moon on a gold platter if they so much as hinted at wanting it. He never asked for anything in return except for the harmless (or not, in Seoho’s case) kisses on the cheek or neck and a hug or four throughout the day. 

A knowing hum leaves past his lips as his mind flashes back to the numerous times their mutual friends had tried to set them up with other people. He loves them, he really does, and they know he does despite his constant pranks and complaining whenever they stick too close to him (they pretend they don’t feel his hands gripping their clothes on some days when he finally accepts a hug, for Seoho’s sake), but you can only do so much until it gets frustrating and just a bit annoying. 

More silence passes, Seoho wills his heart rate to decelerate before his face breaks into his signature flirty, fox-like sunny smile, turning to face his friend—fake boyfriend—his mind is swirling. 

"Okay~" 

"Okay?"

"Okay." He repeats, shoulders shrugging in feign, an almost desperate attempt to look not as affected as he felt, and they leave it at that. 

The exchange just prior days ago plays in his mind, questions almost falling from his lips as he's sat there, feeling Youngjo’s muscled arm around his waist and his head laying against his equally toned chest. Seoho curses Geonhak for dragging Youngjo to the gym so often. Why had Youngjo picked him, He wanted to ask, but as his gaze wandered to the others surrounding them, he figured Youngjo didn't really have a choice, seeing all four of their annoying, beloved friends tangled together in some way or another despite some awkward positioning.

It takes Youngjo’s slightly calloused, large palm stroking his side for him to snap out of thoughts and realize the others are starting their promised q&a. He mentally huffs at them for breaking the almost dream like daze hazing his mind, but he figures he was probably enjoying using Youngjo as a personal teddy bear too much, and so instead; he nuzzles himself closer to the older, only because they’re supposed to pretend to be dating and Youngjo’s conveniently warm, and not because he likes it. 

"Since when has Seoho been this clingy? And _since when_ were you two that close?" He hears, probably from Dongju, his tone painted with playful betrayal but Seoho wasn't focusing entirely. Instead, he tips his chin to look at the older man, lips quirking into a small smile. This was fine, they had thought this out, after all. 

A light tutting sounds in the room, makes Seoho finally turn towards the group, and he dreads the comment that’ll inevitably follow, because it’s Keonhee, and god knows Keonhee can’t watch his mouth sometimes. To save his mentality from crashing over in his head, Seoho burrows his face against the crook of Youngjo’s neck again to tune it out, but he hears bits and pieces of, “Idiot,” “Youngjo hyung’s lovesick fool eyes” and, “At Seoho hyung?”

Steadily, Youngjo offers his eyes to lock with whoever asked the question after sending a playful glare towards Keonhee, but Seoho feels the light grip tightening as the embarrassment filters in the older’s body, and Seoho curls more into himself in an attempt to hide his face. Voice unwavering as he starts explaining how he and Seoho came to be, a small bark of laughter leaves past his lips at the others' fake disgust whenever he went too cheesy, or too into detail. And by the end of the extensive explanation, the group looked pretty convinced. Seoho thinks that he, too, would probably be one hundred percent sold, if he was in their place. Youngjo really did have a way with his words, the calming affect his steady voice held worked wonders. 

They—Youngjo—answered a few more questions from their friends, before a playful shout coming from Hwanwoong pulled Seoho out of his trance, for the nth time. There’s an uncertainty that filled him throughout the evening, tugging on his nerves purposefully, not because their friends aren’t buying it, rather the exact opposite. They’ve been friends for more than he can care to count now, he’s _seen_ them confused, and they’re a smart bunch despite their idotic front. And from the looks of it, it’s more like they’re asking how they hadn’t realized they’d finally ‘tied the knot’ without them knowing, rather than questioning the weirdness of the situation. The hidden implications leaves him with furrowed brows and apples of his cheeks painted pink. From where he's looking upwards at Youngjo, he can see the older's face hardening just a bit as he asks, "What?" either because he hadn't focused on the question like Seoho hadn’t, or he was busy figuring on how to answer. 

"Prove it. Prove that you're dating~" Hwanwoong repeats, almost singing it, and Seoho’s eyes widen from where he's laying on Youngjo, feeling more self conscious of his position as the seconds tick and the words sink in, "We're not kissing for your enjoyment, Woong. There’s nothing to prove." Youngjo says, after a pause, and Seoho recognizes the nervous locking of Youngjo’s jaw, the almost stern finality in his tone evident. His own cheeks redden furthermore against his will as he sputters an almost identical answer at their friend. He knows that Hwanwoong was already completely sold, but if his friends lived by anything it was to watch them be embarrassed, and he can’t find it in himself to be angered by it, because he also knows that if he was in Hwanwoong’s place, he’d do the same thing. 

His lips tug into a pout as he straightens up, the teasing jeers of their friends not helping in calming the red hue tinting his cheeks. He mentally thanks his past self for sacrificing a few months in taking acting classes as he dramatically rolls his eyes at the group, yipping out a small "Fine!", as if only wanting this to end, and his cheeks impossibly redden even more as he hears the other cheer around him. He lets out another huff as he sits up temporarily only moving to throw his legs on either side of Youngjo’s lap, straddling him. "Seo," Youngjo starts, voice low enough only for the both of them to hear it. If it was a warning, Seoho didn't pay it any mind. "Cover Dongju’s eyes.” He calls out instead, absentmindedly as his eyes zeroed on Youngjo’s lips. He registers a yelp coming from the youngest as someone pulls him close and covers his eyes. 

Planting himself directly onto Youngjo’s lap, he starts to lean with a small whisper of, "Sorry," against the other's mouth, eyes fluttering shut before connecting their lips together. A second passes, and Youngjo’s tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss, and they enter this cycle of breaking their heated kisses to breathe in air desperately, before leaning in again and again, capturing each other's lips into their own. Along the way, he feels Youngjo’s large hands traveling to his hips, bringing heat against Seoho’s already burning body. He massages Seoho’s skin under his hands, and gets rewarded with a hum of a small moan, breath mingled between. Seoho’s lips soon leave the older's own, instead trailing his lips to his neck, presses pecks and scattering bites against the skin, leaving some blooming marks behind. With the intensity of the grip Youngjo has on his hips, Seoho supposes he wasn't going to be the only one unbruised either. 

For the third, maybe fourth, time today, Seoho’s broken out of his Youngjo induced trance when he hears the front door clicking closed, sparing a glance behind him to the now deserted living room, except for the both of them. And still, despite himself, he leans once more to nuzzle Youngjo’s neck, against the red marks he placed just a minute ago before sliding off of his lap and into the couch next to him. 

As both of them are breathing heavily, he mutters a weak "That ought to teach them." into the air, breaking the silence. He glances to Youngjo’s still figure, watched as his fingers come to press lightly against where Seoho just marked him and again, they leave it at that. 

This, Seoho thinks, is more of his scene. the ice clinks in the cup of brandy as he swirls it with his hand, other hand resting against his chin on top of the bar, gaze fitting towards the male seated right next to him.

Youngjo had always been a rather nurturing person by nature. of course, that wasn’t always the side of himself that he projected. He had a tendency to come off as rather stern, but the kind of person who would tease relentlessly and just laugh when the other person stormed off in frustration, despite always apologizing with that cute grin of his, there was this underlying sense of care that came out at what he deemed the appropriate moments. Seoho brings the remaining contents of his cup to his lips, eyes never leaving Youngjo’s profile. 

When it comes to, Seoho’s sure he wouldn't mind announcing that Youngjo was surely his exact type. The mussed out black hair, combination of strong and soft features of his face; exactly heart-shaped and plump lips, _very_ much kissable, jaw locking into place and his Adam's apple bobbing as he sipped on whatever bastardized version of alcohol contents brimming his cup. Strong hands that Seoho wants to feel against his skin forever, gripping his waist, his hips, down to his thighs. But Youngjo is Youngjo, never-endingly so respectful, careful of keeping his hands where he thinks wont offend Seoho, not knowing the gesture frustrates him more than ever. But he appreciates it nonetheless, he really does, and he knows the elder’s very much clingy yet still acknowledges that Seoho’s not fond of being touched very often. It makes Seoho’s heart rate pick up more than he'd like to admit. He carefully sets his now empty glass against the bar-top, a small happy sigh leaving his lips at the haze surrounding his mind. 

"Let me call you another?" Youngjo, beautiful Youngjo asks, and Seoho’s gaze keeps locked against the other's face despite his will. "—or, i'll take you home instead." He continues, when he notices the content, slow mismatched blinking, drunk look across Seoho’s features. 

"Dance with me," Came the reply instead, and Seoho’s already extending his hand as if he wont take no for an answer, not like Youngjo would ever think of it. A small chuckle stems from the older's throat, reaching to entangle his fingers into Seoho’s expectant, awaiting ones. 

Once they're in the middle of the crowded dance floor, Youngjo's hands find their home on Seoho’s waist, ever so respectful. The mere thought of it makes Seoho giggle softly, and he leans forward to rest his face against Youngjo’s broad chest, nose lightly nuzzling against the older's throat. 

It's intimate, but he'll blame it on being drunk and them out in public, because they're supposed to try and fool everyone, he tells himself. Then, he feels him rocking them, but it doesn't register right as he does, the proximity and multiple cups of whatever Youngjo has called for him making his mind hazier and hazier. Despite the multiple warning bells sounding in his mind, _dangerous_ , his mind supplies, he ignores it in favor of resting his cheek against the older's broad chest now. Something about Youngjo makes Seoho feel _tiny_ and impossibly small, despite them being not that far off in height. and despite the bustling, packed confined area of the dance floor, Seoho feels _safe_. 

He barely registers that Youngjo has pulled them to the side near the bar again, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. Stumbling around under Youngjo’s now loosed grip, he blinks as he comes face to face with a full beer glass slowly, tilting his head to the side to catch Hwanwoong’s playful grin behind it. "For the newlyweds!" the other shouts gleefully, pushing the glass further into Seoho’s face. The confused, almost drunk expression on Seoho’s face melts almost immediately as he reaches his hand to grab the glass, enclosing his fingers around the coolness just as Youngjo tuts close to his ear, loud enough for the newcomer of the trio to hear. 

"Now now, baby," He starts, a shiver runs through Seoho’s spine at the pet name. "I think you've had too much already, hmm?" Seoho opens his mouth to whine a protest, but he finds that he doesn't need to as Hwanwoong shouts a loud "Boo!" at their direction. He turns his head to grin at the older sheepishly, completely slipping from under his arm, instead, raising his fingers to lightly fiddle with Youngjo’s collar with his unoccupied hand absentmindedly. "Yeah, boo!" he giggles, wiggling his newly acquired drink lightly. "Fuck that, join us instead!" Hwanwoong continues from behind them and Seoho’s lips curl into a small, playful smirk. "Are you that old that you can't go on already, old man?"

Instead of replying, Youngjo raises an eyebrow at the challenge, large hands cupping the slightly younger's smaller ones around the glass, before bringing it to his lips and downing it all in one go, never breaking eye contact. Seoho feels himself gulping, undaring to let his eyes wander off of the older's.

"That was.. mine," he whines almost too softly, absorbed and almost unconsciously. Youngjo slips the now empty glass off Seoho’s hands, placing it on the counter. "You can have more once we're home. Come, love." He hums out in response, hands finding home once more around the younger's slim waist, throwing a parting nod behind his shoulder at a now pouting Hwanwoong. Seoho barely manages to gather enough of himself to wave back at Hwanwoong as he’s stringed along by Youngjo’s hands.

_Home,_ Seoho thinks. They both lived in the dorms, and their rooms are adjacent to each other. He couldn't help the disappointment at his night ending already, a pout visible on his lips as Youngjo opened his cab door for him, getting in on the other side. "Don’t look too sad now, baby. You'll thank me in the morning." He hears Youngjo murmuring, despite his eyes being locked onto the road ahead, making sure the cab driver goes the right way to their dorms. He whines something incoherent in response, his pout deepening. Youngjo spares a look at the other, and despite the alcohol he’s downed throughout the night, Seoho can swear his eyes linger at his lips before focusing back ahead. "I wanted to dance more," he crossed his arms instead, leaning forward to bump his nose gently against Youngjo’s shoulder. Finally, finally, Youngjo looks at him straight on since the cab ride started, hands moving to rest against Seoho’s thigh, offering a gentle squeeze. "We can dance when we get back, if that's what you want." 

Seoho adorably perks up at that, face breaking into a radiant smile as he does, and Youngjo has to hold himself back from cooing. Drunk Seoho was adorable, liquid courage coursing through his veins, and he was more affectionate than usual. "Really?" he asks, voice ever so soft. "Really, sweetheart." and if Seoho was sober enough, he'd think of the petnames used in private. 

  
  


Being back in the dorms, Youngjo brings Seoho to his room, and he immediately parts from Youngjo’s arms once more to set his phone up with the bluetooth speaker set the older got as a gift a few months back on his birthday. He picks some slow sounding tempo song, hips swaying in the air almost right away.

Youngjo emerges from the kitchen to hand Seoho a cold beer, cracking open one for himself as he sets back, 

“How’d you manage to slip alcohol in here?” “I’ve lived here longer than you.” “One year hyung, one.” Youngjo shrugs in response, an amused smile sitting across his lips.

He watches Seoho attempting to dance and sing at the same time, the younger stumbling to the beat under the dim lights of the room. Youngjo leans against the wall, eyes trained and observing the way the younger's beautiful form despite the drunk stagger showing in some kind of wobble, and for the second time that night, Youngjo accepts Seoho’s stretched carefree hand to dance.

Beauty may be subjective, but Seoho, Youngjo thinks that no one could ever lay their eyes on the younger and think otherwise. The light shines, gleaming on his skin as Youngjo twirls him around by his hand, pretty jetblack hair perfectly framing his face, eyes closed and expression relaxed with his kissable pink lips painted into a small serene smile after the giggles finish racking down his body. Youngjo’s never seen someone so quite beautiful as him.

  
  
  
  


Seoho, Keonhee and Dongju run a youtube channel together. There's no exact definition to their content, and it ranges from vlogging, gaming, trying out different challenges, sometimes even mukbangs here and there to uploading covers the gang does together. Sometimes, the others join them in some challenge or game night videos, and the makeshift set always threatens to fall over from the joint chaos the group brings when brought together. Seoho teases, Geonhak pretends to be angry, Youngjo’s tries to play peacemaker, Keonhee's there to be dramatic, Hwanwoong shakes his ass and Dongju bites. It wasn’t something serious, a simple hobby for their joint love to record and hold ugly footage of each other hostage as something to tease them about, and it was an active stress relief for all of them. 

Although their uploading schedule is mostly inconsistent and the speed varies vastly depending on how much free time they’ve got, they’ve cultivated quite an amount of subscribers in the years spent uploading silly videos on the platform. 

Seoho’s hand is on the camera, flipping the monitor up as he starts recording with one hand, toothbrush between his lips as he waves with his free one. “Good morning!” he yips after cleaning his face, suddenly bringing the camera up close as he stage-whispers, “Youngjo hyung’s still sleeping,” he raises his wrist to glance at his imaginary watch, followed by the faux disappointed shake of his head. “Hyung has class soon, but more importantly! He has me here to entertain before class.” he nods a few times affirmatively, as if to confirm the seriousness of the latter topic, and steps out of the bathroom to reenter the bedroom, camera raised to showcase Youngjo’s peaceful form laying on the bed. 

He leans closer to poke at the older’s cheek a few times experimentally, and a little giggle bumbles from his throat at the sounds of his hyung’s aggravated groans. He tries a few more times but the older man shows no signs of wanting to get up anytime soon, so he sets his camera back in favor of climbing on Yongjo’s back, whose face is planted directly on top of the pillows. Seoho turns the recording off, and in the quick second he’s distracted, he finds himself being pulled to Youngjo’s side as the older locks him under his grip with an arm around his waist. 

“Morning, hyung~”, as energetic as he can be, Eight AM on the clock and face squished against the older’s side, any normal human being would find it an increasingly worrying amount. “Morning,” the hyung in question grunts out, voice rough, hoarse due to the underuse of the morning. Seoho beams against the inconvenient position at the affirmation that the other’s finally awake. “Let’s have breakfast!” 

  
  
  
  
  


“Hyung, you know I can't use clips when you do that,” Seoho whines, lips upturning in an exaggerated pout.

“Do what,” Youngjo takes an elongated inhale of the cigarette between his lips before releasing it in a breathy exhale. “This?” 

He full on laughs at the exasperated expression he gets in return, watching as Seoho waves his camera at him in an attempt to look threatening. He isn’t intimidated in the slightest, but he tells himself it’s because he knows Seoho cherishes the pricey camera in his hands too much to throw it at him, not because he’s adorable. 

“Alright alright, sorry,” Youngjo allows himself another drag before stubbing it out on the ashtray balanced on the balcony’s railing. “What did you want to shoot anyway? Nothing interesting happening here, pretty dark and all.”

“You,” almost as a flip of a switch, Seoho’s pretty pout is replaced by an equally, perhaps prettier smile as he fiddles with the camera in his hands. “Me?” Youngjo raises an eyebrow in turn, absentmindedly slipping a hand in his pocket to fidget with the pack of cigarettes in it. 

Seoho nods, “Saw many comments saying they missed you in our last upload, it’s my job to adhere to the masses.” He follows it with a shrug. Despite his claims, he turns his camera off to place it onto the balcony table instead.

Youngjo notices, can tell whenever Seoho’s contemplating on speaking about a certain thing plaguing his mind. 

“You know, I don't stop you just for uploads,” He starts, worrying his lower lip with his teeth lightly. “Something happen, hyung? You only smoke this much when you’re more stressed than usual.” In spite of the adoration bubbling in his chest at the other’s concern, Youngjo mentally winces at the reminder of the amount of relentless papers he has to type out, coupled with the fact that he has a few more weeks to ‘pretend’ to be dating his friend, when in fact his chest is almost bursting with endless love and adoration waiting to be acknowledged for the same exact person. His grip tightens in his pocket. 

“Just this and that.” Youngjo murmurs instead, exploiting the moment where Seoho’s looking ahead instead of at him to fully take in how beautiful he really is. Then, because Youngjo is Youngjo, and he hates more than anything for Seoho to be worried about him, “How ‘bout a kiss every time I feel like smoking?” A laugh bumbles in his chest at the unamused look Seoho points at him in turn. “Sorry, sorry, I know I worry you. I’ll deal with it somehow.” Youngjo smiles back at him, small but genuine. 

“You work hard, hyung. Allow some time for yourself to rest. You know I’m here for you if you need anything,” Seoho turns his body to look at him fully, “I accept payments of dinner if you want me to write a paper or three for you.” In the face of his rupturing affections, clawing their way out of his chest forcibly due to overcapacity of his heart, Youngjo doesn’t mind if Seoho stays with him longer. Because Seoho doesn’t push his way into getting answers when he knows the other doesn’t feel like giving them, he isn’t insensitive or belittling, yet knows exactly what to say to try to make the load of Youngjo’s problems lighter. 

It never fails to amaze Youngjo how Seoho seems so genuine and gentle in quiet moments, a complete opposite of his boisterous side out in the open. He’s seen him with the others, seen him ruffle Dongju’s hair and treat him to a hefty dinner and promises of his favorite matcha ice cream when the youngest tries to battle some sort of problem on his own. Gently reminds them that he’s there for them, requiring no forced, futile exchange of words. 

Youngjo raises his eyebrow as Seoho extends his hand out to him. “Give it here. If you want one, you have to ask me.” It takes him a minute to realize what Seoho meant, and another to understand that he’s utterly serious. Seoho clasps his hand around the Youngjo’s hand when they meet, lightly tugging him forward and leaning in to press a chaste kiss on his lips, simple and brief yet erupting with unsaid implications. Seoho turns back and leaves through the balcony door without another word, palm gripping the pack in his hand. 

  
  
  
  


Casting a look around the apartment to find something engaging to do while he waits for Geonhak to finish getting dressed, Seoho finds himself sitting behind the piano. He cycles through a repertoire of years worth of songs, covers, originals, and some made up on spot as his fingers press on notes he finds appealing. 

He hears the sound of Geonhak’s room opening, his friend emerging from it as he brushes through his still wet hair with a towel. He nods at Seoho in greeting, urging him to continue playing as he leans against the wall, and Seoho offers an amused smile in turn as his fingers return against the keys. 

He knows Geonhak has something to say, but he waits patiently while his fingers dance across the keyboard to play anything to fill the silence. He wonders, and finally— “I know you and Youngjo hyung aren’t really dating.” Sometimes Seoho forgets how perceptive Geonhak really is, and the shock of the announcement has his fingers abruptly stopping in the middle of. One shaky exhale that he tries to pass as some kind of laughter after, he tries to gather himself enough to continue playing, pointing his head upwards at Geonhak as he smiles. “What makes you think that, Geonhakkie?” 

The pointed look he gets in return has him lowering his head back again and pretending to be immersed into playing the song and, “But you like him, don’t you.” The younger completely disregarded his question, because he knows that he’s not mistaken and it scares Seoho even more than the revelation of his feelings because it’s not a question, not really, there’s no uncertainty in his tone. 

Geonhak doesn’t push, silence fills in and he allows Seoho some time to get lost in his head and search for a coherent response before he’s nudging him to the side and sitting on the piano bench next to him. He’s playing some sort of song that Seoho doesn’t know the name of, “Yeah,” he isn’t sure why he’s whispering, the softness of his voice unnerving even to himself, more than the untethered feeling the confirmation brings. “I do.” Geonhak simply hums in response and Seoho belatedly realizes that it isn’t confirmation for himself that the younger is searching for, but for Seoho to admit it out loud for himself. 

He doesn’t need to ask how Geonhak knew, because it’s no different during all the years of friendship they have. Years in the making and cultivating the tight knit relationship they share, he, by now, knew all of Seoho knicks like the back of his hands, like Seoho knew his. Knows when to offer the silence Seoho’s mind craves, or when to take charge of whatever slump Seoho has fallen into and extend a hand when he needs it. 

“Clamming up about your feelings isn’t healthy, hyung, no matter how hard you try to justify it.” Geonhak finally says, and Seoho breathes out from his nose as his fingers trace against the coldness of the keys, just to find something to occupy himself with. “‘M not ‘clamming up’, just…”, he starts, or tries to but words are a torment and no matter how hard he tries to struggle against his own menace, he doesn’t have anything to say in response. “Just?” Geonhak spares him a look and all he can offer is his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I really don’t know,” he eventually says. 

“I’m not going to start the whole ‘If it’s meant to be,’ whatever bullshit, but you know better than to be scared, hyung.” Geonhak’s hand reaches to tug him down by his hoodie when Seoho tries to escape. “But you need to stop running away. If it happens, it happens. You know Youngjo well enough by now to know there’s nothing to be scared about.” He continues after giving Seoho a look to make him understand that there’s no way the younger is willing to forgo this conversation and let him leave. 

The small doggy park near their university is a misplaced chunk of heaven on earth to Seoho. Even though he pretends to scrunch his nose in distaste of Sunny’s rough tongue licking his cheek, he can’t stop the loud giggles from escaping his pursed lips after the little pomeranian barks and headbuts him in attempts to win Seoho’s attention. He has his camera facing him but it’s forgotten in the face of the small sunshine wiggling on his lap, so Youngjo takes the camera from his pliant hands to shoot the adorable scene, mostly for himself. Seoho can pretend to complain every time Youngjo asks if he wants to accompany him to walk Sunny, but Youngjo knows better than most that Seoho adores the little thing more than he’d like to admit. 

He complains mostly to win iced coffee and breakfast croissants from Youngjo as ‘bribery’ more than anything, Youngjo would admit that he’d buy him the entire cafe if it means Seoho spends more time with him. 

“Sunny, here boy, come to hyung!” He calls out, patting the ground lightly in encouragement and for a hopeful moment Sunny looks back at him before the tiny betrayer turns his head again to bark up cutely at Seoho, and the sound of Seoho’s loud laughter soothes the act of sad disloyalty and favoritism Sunny just displayed. 

Youngjo turns the camera off in favor of sitting next to them, the exaggerated pout now dropped and forgotten, replaced by an uncontained small smile due to just how cute the two together are. 

“He likes you more than he likes me, his own big brother,” Youngjo complains despite so as he reaches a hand to play with Sunny’s fur, and Seoho’s giggles evoke a stuffing curling of his heart. “You can’t blame him~” Seoho says in response, voice just a little breathy from the proximity and just how much he’s laughed, and "No," Youngjo can’t help himself when he says, "I really can’t."


End file.
